


And The Bed Suddenly Feels So Empty

by Jane_Dorocak



Category: Purple Hyacinth - Ephemerys & Sophism (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Character Death, F/M, Nightmares, Post-Canon, also, and Executions, not much of a plot mostly just contemplations of one Lauren Sinclair about her past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29379039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jane_Dorocak/pseuds/Jane_Dorocak
Summary: Lauren always hated happy dreams ever since she was a child. They were just lies, happy illusions reminding her constantly of what could have been if she had acted differently; if she had spoken up; if she hadn’t hesitated; if she had done something differently; if she had said no; if, if…No, she didn’t like happy dreams - but the nightmares were not much better.(set post events of PH)
Relationships: Lady Arthingham/Butler (mentioned), Lauren Sinclair/Kieran White, Will Hawkes/Kym Ladell (mentioned)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 35





	And The Bed Suddenly Feels So Empty

**Author's Note:**

> This started like a writing exercise to help me with a writer's block.  
> No it did not help with the writer's block.  
> I hate my brain.  
> 

They were standing in the middle of the square, the Sun shining high above them. A beautiful day - one of the first days of spring, the sky clear, the breeze bridging the smell of fresh flower blossoms from the nearby park.

She cannot feel any of it thought.

Not the warmth of the Sun, nor the smell of the flowers.

And just the same she cannot hear the crowd around her, a cacophony of shouts and murmurs and hate, so much hate. The only thing she can smell in the air is metal, the only sound - the blood dripping from Kieran’s nose as he kneels in front of her.

He looks so calm despite it all. Brought to his knees in the middle of the circle that had formed in the middle of the square, a guard on each side to stop him from running away, head cast down, hands tied back, face pale, the blood running from his face.

The bloody nose is the last gift from the people of Ardhalis - a rock thrown into his face, as he was dragged here.

And the bullet he will receive soon after - the last gift from her.

That’s right.

It’s a beautiful day, the Sun shining high, and it's the day of the execution of the Purple Hyacinth, the monster of Ardhalis.

And she is the executioner.

Her grip on the gun tightens, the metal suddenly too heavy and cold in her hands.

She wants to drop it. To grab Kieran and run far far away-

She can’t.

Seh doesn’t.

Somewhere in the back she knows, rather than hears the new king's advisor reciting a preprepared speech about this being the end of the Scythe with their greatest demon…

Lies, all lies, she knows even if she doesn’t hear a word.

She tried to persuade them Kieran is not like that, but no one would listen, not the king or Queen, not March, not even Will and Kym…

She knows they’re standing in the crowd too, watching the man they thought to be their coworker and friend only to be betrayed bleeding on the cobblestones.

Drip-drop, drops the blood.

Kieran finally looks up at her.

His eyes are still blue, blue as the sky above. and there are no tears in them.

She doesn’t know if that’s good or bad, but he’s unwittingly reminded of his words.

_ I could strangle you with my bare hands and not shed a single tear. _

And now who’s holding whose life at bay?

Drip drop, the blood drops faster now as if to match their impending doom.

“Sinclair!” the sound of her voice makes it through the barrier, making her jolt.

She whirls to look into the eyes of detective march, the usually warm brown now cold and polished like the desk from which the judge announced the verdict of death three days ago.

“Please proceed.”

She nods mechanically.

Raises her hand. But then she lowers it.

Takes one wavering step forward, then another, until she’s only a few inches from Kieran.

She needs to be closer to him. Just like he was to all of his targets.

That was after all the reason he used swords and knives over a gun.

Not distancing herself from this act.

_ Not distancing herself from her guilt. _

To feel it all from up close, to know it wasn’t a bullet that killed the target, but her.

She pushes the gun against his temple.

“For all the crimes, you committed against the city of Ardhalis-” 

_ For all the crimes this city committed against you. _

“For all the lives you ruined.”

_ For all those years you had no other choice. _

“I Lauren Sinclair come as the bringer of justice.”

_ Come as the upholder of a rotten status quo. _

“To execute-”

_ To murder you. _

She breaks again.

Drops on her knees in front of him.

The crowd explodes into shouts and angry protests.

“I can’t do it,” she mumbles tears turning her vision blurry.

“I can't shoot you, Kieran.”

He chuckles again, this time shortly.

“I thought that was the one thing you always wanted, Officer. But I see you’re all bark no bite…”

And before she or the guards could react, he lunches forward his hands inexplicably free of chains as he grabs her hand with the gun, pushing it against his head right underneath his chin.

“Kieran-” she shouts in shock trying to free her hand at him but freezes, she looks up at him, their eyes meeting.

He smiles.

_ “It’s alright, Officer. I made my peace.” _

The words come to her with the smell of iron, dyed in red.

He closes his eyes.

His fingers push on hers pushing on the trigger.

The gun fires.

Lauren's eyes snap open.

She stays still for a moment, completely frozen in time, her hand reaching to the ceiling still clenching the imaginary gun, tears burning like blood dripping from her eyes.

It takes almost half a minute until she realizes where she is and how much her body needs oxygen, and she inhales sharply, her arm falling down covering her eyes.

_ She’s home. _

It’s not early spring noon, it's a late August night, she’s in her bedroom in Sinclair manor and there’s no shouting crowd. No blood. And no assassin pushing a gun against his head.

She rolls to her side and glances back at her clock.

One past midnight.

And she no longer feels like sleeping.

She lets out a weary sigh as she forces herself to sit up, running her hands over her eyes as she drops her feet from the bed, trying not to acknowledge empty space left beside her in the bed. The cold air coming from the open window causes her to shiver, so she grabs the shawl hanging at the foot of her bed, wrapping herself in it before, stepping lightly over the creaking floorboards to close it.

Her hand pauses at the window frame though as her eyes gaze out into the sleeping garden of the manor.

In the summer, the garden is in full bloom, overflowing with flowers of various sizes and shapes and colors all vibrant and beautiful and so full of life - all but hyacinths, never the hyacinths - but at night the blossoms sleep, the scenery covered with a fine silvery veil of the moonlight, making the entire garden look lie something out of a fairy tale.

Kieran would love to see it right now, she was sure.

_ “It’s peaceful,” _ he would say.

“ _ But also so, so melancholic. As if the whole garden was in slumber, in deep thoughts pondering on something.” _

Lauren would laugh at that.

_ “This must be the first time I heard someone describe the garden as “pensive”.” _

_ “Well, it is true,” _ he’d reply.

_ “And it’s still better when I call your garden pensive instead of `your eyes." _

Lauren shakes her head for herself.

“Ever the poet...” she notes for herself, as the cold breeze runs over her once again and makes her shiver.

How ridiculous, a few years ago she had no problem running around on cold winter nights and now even the august breeze makes her shiver.

“You make it sound like your ancient,” she sighs at herself.

“You’re barely thirty.”

But still, this night surprisingly cold, for August at least, and the feeling of hollowness in her heart does nothing to warm her up after the nightmare.

Another strange thing - she was used to waking up from her nightmares alone for so long, into the cold room, only rarely managing a cry that would bring Tristan or Lucy to her room, used to steady her breath as her eyes shot open, preferring to deal with her guilt alone not letting anyone in - but now a few years later, when she's older and supposedly wiser she suddenly feels the need for someone to hold her like a little child after she wakes up from a bad dream.

_ Another bad habit you taught me, _ she notes to the full moon looking back at her.

She shakes her head but then pauses as her eyes catch a glance of her face on the other window wing - her features pained in the same way as the garden, silver and white and black. Even her hair is muted in the bleak reflection, looking more like smothered barely breathing pieces of coal than the radiant fire it usually resembles.

The one thing neither the age nor the light changes are the eye bags under her eyes, always as dark and dragging as ever.

A walking ghost.

_ “You know as much as I think white suits you,” _ she could hear him over her shoulder, just a ghost of his voice so close but with no warmth to tickle the shell of her ear, no arms to wrap around her torso.

“ _ But you’re so pale one might mistake you for a corpse.” _

She lets out a sad chuckle at the thought.

He first told her that the white color suited her on the New Year's party of her uncle all those years ago when they only pretended to be a couple. She thought he was just trying to be polite back then, but thinking of it more she recognized no lie or sarcasm in his words.

It terrified her sometimes how his truths have always seemed to catch her off guard.

She tilts her head, squinting to her reflection as if she could see him over her shoulder if she tried hard enough.

“Sorry to disappoint, subordinate,” she notes bitterly.

“But the Chief of Police doesn’t have much time for sun tanning.”

The Chief of Police… It still felt strange on her tongue. Not that she doubted herself - well not more than she suppose anyone would in such a situation - but she never thought she would reach that far. 

In fact, she frankly hardly ever thought of what she’d do after she defeated the Phantom Scythe, too focused on chasing ghosts to avenge her past, blind to both her present and her future.

And how she paid for that blindness. 

Oh, how she paid many times over.

After the Tower massacre, when she first realized to a full extend she made a deal with a murderer; when she found out the bitter truth about her parents; when her uncle and Dakan were outed as apostles both of them sent into prison, when she…

Her hand settled at her stomach clutching the fabric of her clothes.

Yes, she paid dearly. But still, was it enough? 

She asked that question over and over again through the past years.

Did she pay enough for her mistakes?

Does she even deserve all she had right now?

Her job, Lucy, her friends Will and Kym even though they were miles away right now, her life and h-

_ Don’t think like this, _ she scolds herself looking back to her reflection, catching a glimpse of the hand which on all accounts should have born a wedding bad.

_ He wouldn’t want that. _

She releases her grip on the nightgown, bringing her hand to her lips, kissing the bare spot on her ring finger.

She hopes he was enjoying himself wherever he was.

She lets out a weary sigh when a knock comes on the door, bringing her back to the real world.

“Ma’am,” Lucy peaks into the room, her hair long turned silver with age.

Lauren smiles at her. The poor maid was one of the few people who could console her about her uncle’s betrayal, as she was the only person to understand Lauren’s pain. Even after her uncle was gone, she still stayed to work for the Sinclair family. Lauren never realized until recently how much she relied on this good woman. Truly an angel.

“Lucy, how come you’re awake this late?” she asks stepping away from the window.

“Given that you are also awake I don’t think you have the right to judge, ma’am,” Lucy replies, eyes still cast down, though the scolding is obvious there.

“But I came to tell you but you have a phone call.”.

Lauren frowns.

“At this hour?”

“The caller sounded rather urgent my lady,” Lucy replies her face somewhat unreadable, and Lauren perks up, immediately forgetting the chill.

“Thank you. I’ll take it in my office,” she says taking long steps to the dark room at the other side of the corridor.

in few moments she’s by the phone, picking it up, as she clear her throat hoping the person on the other end won’t notice the melancholy in her voice.

“Chief Sinclair speak-” she doesn’t get further when an excited voice squeal from the other end interrupts her.

“Mommyyy!”

Lauren’s stern expression immediately melts as her shoulder drop with unexpected relief.

“Sophie, dear, that’s you?”

“Yes! Did we wake you up? Sorry, I didn’t call sooner but we had a busy day! We were on the beach and auntie Kym brought a watermelon with her, and we went swimming with her, and uncle Will got sunburned, and now I’m having a sleepover with Alex and Cecilia because their parents are too tired, and, and-”

The little girl was running out of breath with how quickly she was talking and Lauren couldn’t help but giggle.

“Oh? really?” she asks softly, her eyes landing on the photo on her desk. From somewhere on a beach, three wide smiles are shining back at her - one her own, the other two belonging to a man both with dark hair and a red-haired girl. The girl’s eyes are closed but she knows them to have the same color as her father’s - blue like the vast ocean and equally deep. A small metal chain hangs from the edge of the frame on the end of it hanging a simple ring made of silver and gold.

She tilts her head raising one hand to play with the small chain.

“Well, that explains why you’re up this late. Say, who is at that sleepover of yours?”

“Oh, just us,” Sophie replies.

“Alex, Cecilia, me - oh and leftover watermelon! And a bag of marshmallows.”

“Only you five?”

“Yup,” Lauren could practically see the girl nod eagerly over the phone.

“And what about daddy?” 

“Well, yeeeeah,” Sophie’s eyeroll is almost audible.

“Dad is here too - but only because we need su-per-vi-si-on,” she spells carefully.

“Alright, be mean to your old father,” a muted voice male voice speaks from somewhere behind Sophie.

“Can you give me the phone, moonlight?”

“Yeah!” Sophie replies to the voice and then turns her attention back to the phone.

“I hang you over to dad, mom. Bye!!!”

There’s some rustling and then the phone static settled again and the deeper voice speaks up again, calm and slightly tired, but still filled with the same affection as when they married.

“Good late evening mon amour.”

“And to you mon coeur,” Lauren replies.

“So you’re working as a babysitter for the night.”

“I had no other choice,” Kieran replies nonchalantly.

“Kym and Will wanted to spend some quality couple time alone, and since my dear spouse’s not here, I had no excuse but to take it.”

“I see,” Lauren nodded.

“I hope they’re letting you have some time to do drawing at least.”

“I have that plenty, my dear. Though it’s not enough to capture all the beauty around me natural or otherwise. And of course - one crucial beauty is missing from my sight.”

She heard him sigh.

“But what about you dear? I hope we didn’t wake you up - or rather hope we did wake you up because that would mean you were actually getting some decent sleep.”

Lauren scoffs.

“Unfortunately no.”

“I see,” Kieran frowns on the other side, she knows he does.

“Is it that case that’s keeping you in the city for so long? Because I should let you know, we’d have you here rather a few days later and well rest than to get yourself killed over lack of sleep.”

“Yes, I know. But don’t worry, the case is actually going smoothly for now,” Lauren replies.

“We already have the main suspect in the custody. I should be off in a day or two.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Kieran breaths a sigh of relief.

“Though I still think it’s strange thought you as the Police Chief have to stay behind for one simple murder investigation. I always thought that’s the job for the detective unit.”

“Yes, well, in most murder cases the victim is not the butler of the certain Lady Arthingham. She’s a very influential woman, especially since she accidentally helped to capture the Leader and his last two apostles. And she cherished her butler very dearly.”

“That she did, alright,” Kieran sighs on the other side of the line.

“Mon coeur, please, promise me, you’d be as thorough when someone decides to assassinate me.”

“I cannot really imagine anyone besides me capable enough to pull that off, but surely,” Lauren mocks back but her voice breaks slightly at the memory of her dream from before. That of course doesn't stay unnoticed by Kieran.

“Are you alright?” he asks voice suddenly filled with concern. Lauren tenses

“Yes, I… just had a bad dream,” Lauren replies curtly.

“It was silly but...” she shakes her head in disbelief at her own foolishness.

“Another one of those where I shoot you actually.”

She hasn’t even noticed as her voice trembles at the words, tear filling her eyes.

“Oh dear,” she hears him sigh.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Well, it was just a dream,” she tries to shrug it off.

“And on top of that, it didn’t even happen so-”

“I know it didn’t dear, but still, if it makes you feel bad, don't hold back on me,” Kieran reminds her softly.

Lauren gulps down a smile forming on her face despite the tears.

“I know. I just… Thank you, Kieran. for always benign there for me.”

“I promised that after all, didn’t I?” Kieran laughs back.

“Before the God and the officiant and more importantly before Kym and Will, and you know that if I ever hurt you those two would break every bone in my body. Slowly.”

Lauren rolls her eyes.

“Oh, common, they wouldn’t be so vicious,” she laughs.

“You’re saying that only because you never got on their bad side,” Kieran retorts, but it’s clear the heaviness lifted from thor conversation for a moment.

"What did I do to deserve you, Kieran?" Lauren shakes her head.

"Could ask you the same thing mon amour," Kieren replies with a chuckle.

“You're too good for an old sinner like me."

"Kieran-"

"I know, I know. you don't care. You love me. Well, it's the same for me. I love you and that's all that matters," he notes his voice soothing and stinking her all the same.

"How are your hands, by the way? You mentioned they were getting swollen as of lately.”

“Well, yeah a bit,” she nods.

“I had to take my ring off too. It’s annoying.”

“Did you go to the doctor with it?”

“Yes.”

“And? Did she figure out what’s the cause?”

Kieran tries to act all nonchalant but even over the phone, she knows he’s worried. He always is.

As Kym once put it - sometimes it’s like the two of us have nannies instead of husbands.

Lauren bits her lip, her hand slipping to her stomach.

“Yeah, she might have a clue. It’s nothing dangerous though, don’t worry.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Kieran notes, but immediately gets distracted by something as he pulls away from the phone to shout at someone in the room.

“Alex, no! Put that down! Sorry, dear,” he speaks to the phone again.

“But I have to go before Kym’s little gremlin number one paints Kym’s gremlin number two's hair orange.”

“Oh, sure, have fun!” Lauren laughs back.

"Wouldn't call it fun, but alright," Kieran replies.

“Sweet dreams, mon amour.”

"To you too, Kieran. I love you."

"Love you too. Alex put that down in an instant or so help me God-"

The phone clicks signifying the end of the call, and Lauren puts down the headset back to its place.

She smiles to herself. So she might have lied about still having to be two days at work. 

She can already imagine Kieran's surprised face when she appears in front of their hotel tomorrow.

And even more so when she tells him about her little revelation.

"Well," she notes brushing a hand over her stomach.

"I think we should really go to bed now. We have a long day tomorrow."

_ She still doesn't know if she deserves everything in her life. _

_ But that doesn't mean she's going to give up or stop loving what she has. _

**Author's Note:**

> _meanwhile Kym and Will are finally getting it on in their private room._
> 
> Yes the character death tag was for the Butler.  
> No I'm not sorry. That man's death is the greatest tragedy that could meet the PH story.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this and I wish you a pleasant day!
> 
> [ webtoon](https://www.webtoons.com/en/mystery/purple-hyacinth/list?title_no=1621&page=1)  
> [PH discord ](https://discord.gg/Y7r2fDg)


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